


give me a chance (it's worth taking)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Domestic, Getting Together, Lingerie, M/M, Not Hockey Players (Hockey RPF), Piercings, Snowball Fight, The Loops (TM), one of them anyway, this is horny but also very fluffy and dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 03:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21313768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: Patrik didn't expect the team to pick a strip club for their post-win celebration, but he's not going to justleave.Some of the guys decide it'd be hilarious to gift him with a private dance.Yeah, that'll go great.(saying he didn't see this coming would be the biggest understatement of his life.)
Relationships: Nikolaj Ehlers/Patrik Laine
Comments: 15
Kudos: 149





	give me a chance (it's worth taking)

**Author's Note:**

> heyyy it's me! back again with the, uh, going crazy with concepts that probably did not need to be so crazy bullshit. i just want nikolaj to be pretty at all times. okay? okay! yes this is really horny! shut up!
> 
> i'm aware this is not a realistic depiction of uh. Anything. however i'm just having a fun time, baby!
> 
> this is because of The Loops (of which there will be a link to in the end notes) and. okay mostly just the loops actually. but also piercings. and the vaguest hints of Destiny, but let's not think about that too much!
> 
> i did not expect this to get so long? i started it on friday for fun and um. 45+ pages later. Nikolaj Pretty has consumed me i guess!
> 
> title from "girl" by jukebox the ghost
> 
> **see the end notes for possibly triggering material**

Patrik doesn’t know what he’s doing here. 

_ Here _ being a Winnipeg strip club, watching his teammates get steadily drunker under the neon lights. 

“You didn’t say we were coming here,” Patrik complains to Adam. When Kyle had sidled up to him after the game and asked if he wanted to go out, he’d figured Kyle meant, like, a quiet bar where Patrik could actually hear himself think.

Adam is the only one still sitting at the table, staring morosely into his disturbingly green drink. He hasn’t been into partying as much this season. Patrik is surprised that he agreed to come out at all. 

Adam shrugs, stirring his drink. “I didn’t ask,” he says. 

Taking a drink of his water, Patrik squints into the dim club. He can see Kyle’s ginger hair over by the bar, probably trying to flirt his way into getting a free drink. Probably unsuccessfully. Patrik drinks the rest of his water and wonders if Kyle would be sad if he left early. He decides he doesn’t actually care, and is about two seconds from standing up to go when somebody calls his name. 

Patrik turns around to see Josh and Laurent, both looking way too smug. Kyle wanders over, sliding his phone into his pocket and slinging an arm around Josh’s shoulders. He has a disturbingly knowing look on his face. 

“Uh,” Patrik says. 

“It’s a good idea, bro,” Kyle says, but he’s not talking to Patrik.

Josh’s expression gets even more smug, if that’s possible. “Thanks,” he says. “I thought so.” 

“What’s a good idea?” Patrik asks loudly. 

The three of them look almost surprised to hear him speak, like they’d forgotten he was there. 

“We bought you a lap dance,” Laurent says. 

Patrik gapes. “You—”

“In a private room,” Kyle adds, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Guys,” Patrik says, “I don’t—”

Kyle pouts. Josh widens his eyes imploringly. Laurent checks his phone. 

“You’ve been so tense lately,” Josh wheedles, “we wanted to help you unwind, man.” 

“It wasn’t cheap,” Laurent adds, running a hand through his hair. He’s still looking at his phone. He’s on Snapchat, probably. 

Patrik sighs. They’re right, is the thing. Patrik’s been putting up points, sure, but he’s been feeling kind of off for a couple weeks now. “Fine,” he says, standing up, “but I’m not paying you back.”

All four of them have new contracts, so nobody seems bothered by that.

Josh leads Patrik to a dimly lit hallway towards the back of the building, a few rooms marked with dark curtains hanging in the doorways. Kyle says something Patrik can’t hear to the security guard, then he’s being shown to one of the rooms. 

“Remember, no touching,” the security guard says, and it feels way too real all of a sudden.

“Uh,” Patrik says, not sure he wants to do this anymore, but the security guy pulls the curtain aside for him and ushers him through. 

Patrik takes in the room for a moment. The lights are low, a dim purple glow making everything seem hazy and not quite real. There’s a loveseat, black leather, in the centre of the room. There’s a floor length mirror on one wall, a couple chairs set up around a table. A few potted plants are placed around the room. It looks like it’s supposed to be imitating a real room somebody might have in their home.

But, like. In a sexy way.

Someone clears their throat. “You done looking around?” 

Patrik follows the voice and sees a young man leaning against the opposite wall. He’s dressed in black that stands out sharply against his pale skin, dramatic purple and black makeup on his eyes and cheekbones. There’s a lot of skin showing.

The guy is probably a head shorter than Patrik. When he steps forward, Patrik gets a better look at his outfit. 

His mouth goes dry.

The guy’s clothes are all tight like they’ve been painted on. He’s wearing tiny shorts that really don’t hide anything, a cropped shirt with mesh sleeves and a high collar that shows off the sparkle of a belly button piercing. He’s also wearing garters. 

Patrik’s pretty sure he has his nipples pierced, too. 

He looks back up at the guy’s face, only his expression has changed into one that Patrik knows. 

_ Recognition. _

“Um,” Patrik says awkwardly. “I should, uh, go. This was my team—my friends’ idea.” 

“I won’t tell anyone,” the guy says quickly. “I wouldn’t.” He smiles, a little mischievous, a little sharp, and Patrik believes him. “Besides,” he continues, “it’s just a lap dance.” He steps closer and hooks a finger in Patrik’s belt, tugging him into the room. 

Patrik keeps his hands carefully by his sides and lets him.

“You know my name,” Patrik says once he’s on the couch, “can you tell me yours?” He shifts a little, trying to make himself comfortable. He can’t stop himself from staring at the guy’s back, the shift of his muscles, the strong lines of his thighs, the curve of his ass.

The guy glances back at him, looking a little surprised. “Nikolaj,” he says, wiping the surprise off his face. He smiles again, smaller this time. He caught Patrik looking.

Patrik doesn’t bother with embarrassment, just tilts his head expectantly and waits. _ Get on with it, _he says with his body language. 

Nikolaj’s smile changes into a smirk and he finally starts his music. It’s not too loud, but it’s heavy. The bass sinks into Patrik’s bones and vibrates in his chest.

Nikolaj—well, the only word Patrik can think of for his movement is _ slinks _ back to the couch and slides into Patrik’s lap, winding his arms around his neck. He’s at eye level like this.

“Don’t touch,” Nikolaj says softly, his breath warm on Patrik’s ear.

Patrik presses his fingers into the leather upholstery and looks Nikolaj in the eyes. He smirks and raises his eyebrows. Nikolaj squints at him, playful, and starts to move. 

He’s good—it’s his job, of course he’s good—but Patrik tries not to let it show too much. 

Nikolaj accepts the challenge, twisting and rocking his hips, and Patrik wants to take his waist and pull him closer. He doesn’t, obviously, but he can’t help thinking about it. 

He wants to run his fingers through Nikolaj’s hair, squeeze his hips, leave hickies on his thighs. He wants to see Nikolaj’s piercings. Get his mouth on them, maybe.

Nikolaj’s fingers dig into his shoulders. Patrik meets his eyes, sure all of his thoughts are showing on his face. Judging by Nikolaj’s dark eyes and flushed cheeks, he knows exactly what Patrik is thinking.

“You want to touch, don’t you,” Nikolaj says, breathy. It’s not a question. “Everybody does.” 

“I’m not gonna touch you,” Patrik says, drumming his fingers against the couch to emphasize his point. He thinks for a second. “That’s unprofessional.” 

“Yeah, you hockey players and your _ professionalism.” _ Nikolaj grins at him, tugging gently at the hair at the nape of Patrik’s neck before he leans back a little. He slides one hand down to press against Patrik’s chest, then unbuttons the top button of his shirt. “You’re pretty dressed up for a place like this, huh?” 

Patrik shrugs. “Professional.” 

Nikolaj laughs softly, then slides his hands over his own chest and down his stomach. He grins, but stops when his fingers brush his waistband. 

The music fades away, leaving the room in silence. Patrik swallows hard.

Nikolaj is still in his lap. He has a considering look in his eyes, then he leans forward almost impulsively until his lips brush the shell of Patrik’s ear. “You know,” he says softly, “I get off in an hour.” He slides out of Patrik’s lap and looks down at him through his eyelashes.

Patrik grins at him crookedly. “I bet you will,” he says, teasing, and the warmth in his chest when Nikolaj smiles makes him feel like a kid again. 

Nikolaj extends a hand to him. Patrik takes it, careful not to squeeze too tight, and lets Nikolaj pull him up. Nikolaj’s skin is warm and soft. 

“This was fun,” Patrik says, and he pulls out his wallet and takes out a pair of twenties. He presses the bills into Nikolaj’s palm and sees himself out. 

He feels a little less confident when he’s in the bathroom splashing cold water on his face, trying to calm himself down as much as he can. He doesn’t feel like going back to the team with a boner.

He dries his face and hands and looks at himself in the mirror.

One of the lightbulbs is broken, making the shadows dance over his face. He’s never thought about hooking up with a stripper before, but now—well. Nikolaj is pretty. He knows who Patrik is and he promised not to tell anybody, even though the money he could make selling that story is…. He could make a lot of money.

Still, Patrik trusts him. He doesn’t know why, exactly, but he does. 

He also really wants to get his hands on Nikolaj’s skin. And his mouth. 

Patrik shakes his head and tries to shove those thoughts of his mind before his situation gets worse. 

“Well?” Josh is leaning forward before Patrik has even sat back down at the table. 

Patrik rolls his eyes. “What, do you want me to describe the whole thing? Creep.” 

“Did you have fun?” Kyle asks, weirdly earnest for a conversation about a lap dance. He also looks a little disheveled, like he was having some fun of his own while Patrik was gone.

“I—” Patrik frowns. “Yeah?”

Kyle extends his hand and Josh fistbumps him without looking.

“Nice,” Laurent says, forehead wrinkled in concentration as he taps out a text.

“Yeah, yeah,” Patrik says, and accepts their chirping good-naturedly.

He doesn’t do much for the next hour, mostly sitting at the table with a glass of water. Occasionally, teammates stop by to have a drink and he’ll talk to them before they move on. Adam’s long since gone home, though, so he doesn’t have a steady companion. 

He’s scrolling through Twitter when a hand brushes over his shoulder. 

He looks up to see Nikolaj smiling at him, a little uncertain. He’s dressed in street clothes, jeans and a T-shirt under a jacket, and a soft gray toque. His fluffy blond hair curls out of his hat at the back of his neck. He has a backpack slung over one shoulder. 

There’s still a smudge of purple glitter on his cheek, like he missed it while he was cleaning up.

He’s just as pretty as he was when he was half naked in Patrik’s lap.

“You stayed,” Nikolaj says, like he can’t quite believe it.

“Yeah,” Patrik answers for lack of anything else to say. “Was that—is this okay?” 

Nikolaj nods quickly, then blushes like he’s embarrassed at his own enthusiasm. 

_ Cute, _Patrik thinks. “Well,” he says, standing up and pulling his jacket off the back of his chair, “you wanna get out of here?” 

Instead of answering with words, Nikolaj tips his head towards the door and starts off through the crowd.

Patrik catches up to him easily, curling his fingers into the sleeve of Nikolaj’s coat. Nikolaj glances back, smiles, then moves so Patrik’s holding his hand instead of his coat. 

“Soft,” Patrik murmurs, teasing. He has to lean in close so Nikolaj can hear him and he notices the way Nikolaj shivers at that. 

Nikolaj squeezes his hand hard to cover it up. “Whatever,” he mutters, but Patrik can see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“No, no,” Patrik says as they finally step out into the cool night, “it’s cute.” 

Nikolaj wrinkles his nose adorably. “‘Cute’?” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Patrik says. He tugs Nikolaj closer by the hand and curls a finger under his chin to tilt his face up. “Cute.” 

Nikolaj rolls his eyes, but he’s blushing. Patrik thumbs at his lower lip before stepping back. 

“My car is this way,” he says, pointing, but Nikolaj holds his hand all the way to the car anyway.

Once Patrik is in the driver’s seat, Nikolaj reaches over the centre console and rests a hand on Patrik’s thigh.

“If we die in a car crash, it’s your fault,” Patrik says evenly, but he starts the car to the sound of Nikolaj laughing.

Nikolaj’s hand stays on his leg the whole way back to Patrik’s place. Patrik wonders if it’d be worth it to pull over onto some darkened road and get in the backseat with him but before he can make up his mind, he’s pulling into his parking space and they’re getting out of the car.

They don’t touch on the way up to Patrik’s apartment, keeping a sensible amount of space between each other in the elevator and outside the door. Patrik tries very hard to keep his hands steady while he unlocks the door.

As soon as they’re inside, all that empty space between them disappears as Nikolaj steps closer, his backpack falling to the floor with a _ thump. _ He hooks his fingers into Patrik’s belt loops and looks up at him through his eyelashes. Patrik curls a hand around the back of his head, relishing the feeling of Nikolaj’s soft hair sliding through his fingers. 

He twists his fingers tighter, relishing the way Nikolaj tips his head back as his eyelids flutter shut. 

“Kiss me,” Nikolaj says quietly, his eyes still closed. 

Patrik does. 

Nikolaj kisses back fiercely, nipping at Patrik’s lower lip before pressing a softer kiss to his mouth as if to soothe it. 

Patrik only smiles against his mouth and tugs his hair again. Nikolaj _ really _ likes that, based on the way he plasters himself closer, tilting his head back into Patrik’s hand. 

“Come on,” Nikolaj manages. He slides his hands up Patrik’s chest and undoes another shirt button.

Patrik ducks his head and mouths at Nikolaj’s neck, setting his teeth gently against a tendon there. Then he pauses and leans back to look at Nikolaj. “Is that—” He presses a thumb against the spot on Nikolaj’s neck. “Is that okay?” 

Nikolaj fists his hands in his shirt. “Yeah, yeah, I can cover it, just—” His voice cuts off with a whine when Patrik moves closer and sucks a bruise into his throat. 

Eventually, Patrik leans back to study his handiwork. The mark is already showing, dark against Nikolaj’s pale skin. Nikolaj sways into him, sweaty palms slipping against the fabric of Patrik’s shirt. Patrik brushes a soft kiss over the bruise and Nikolaj shivers in his arms. 

Patrik nudges his nose under Nikolaj’s ear, kissing the pulse point there. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers, and even though Nikolaj probably gets that a lot, he moves away from Patrik enough to grab his face and drag him down to kiss him again.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Nikolaj asks, his tongue darting out to lick his pink lips. 

Patrik stares at his mouth for a moment, distracted, then shakes himself off when Nikolaj clears his throat. He kicks off his shoes, waits for Nikolaj to follow suit, then leads him deeper into the apartment.

His bedroom is mercifully not a complete mess, the blankets a little rumpled from his pregame nap but no dirty clothes in sight. 

Nikolaj pushes him until he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, then he steps back and pulls out his phone. Patrik raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to speak, but Nikolaj shushes him before he even makes a sound.

Patrik laughs when the familiar sound of Nikolaj’s dance music comes on, tinny through his phone’s speakers but still recognizable. Nikolaj grins and unbuttons his jeans. Patrik stops laughing pretty quick.

Nikolaj shimmies out of his jeans and pulls his shirt over his head, then he just stands there for a moment, looking at Patrik with a challenge in every line of his body. 

For a minute, Patrik _ looks _ at him.

Apparently, Nikolaj didn’t change _ that _ much after his shift. He’s shirtless, but he’s still wearing those fucking garters. The shorts are gone, but he’s—god, he’s wearing _ panties. _

And Patrik was right. Nikolaj’s nipples are pierced, tiny pieces of jewelry sparkling purple in the dim light of Patrik’s bedroom.

Patrik wants to put his mouth on them.

Instead, he reaches out and Nikolaj comes to him. 

Nikolaj slides into his lap, his technique less refined than it had been at the club. 

“You can touch this time,” he breathes, and Patrik does. 

Patrik grips Nikolaj’s hips, his waist, slides his hands up Nikolaj’s back until he can grab his hair and make his head fall back with a moan. He presses his mouth against the line of Nikolaj’s throat, not using his teeth but kissing a line down to his collarbone. 

Nikolaj grips Patrik’s shoulders and jerks in Patrik’s lap. Patrik smiles against Nikolaj’s skin, then he ducks down to drag his tongue over Nikolaj’s nipples.

It’s a little weird—he’s never fucked anybody with piercings like this before—but the way Nikolaj shudders and whines makes Patrik ignore the strangeness of metal against his tongue. Nikolaj’s hands tighten on his shoulders when Patrik does it again, this time on the opposite side.

“Patrik,” he gasps, “Patrik, please, I—” His voice cuts off with a soft whimper when Patrik rubs a thumb gently over his nipple. 

“Hold on,” Patrik says, and he waits for Nikolaj’s hands to tighten on his shoulders before gripping Nikolaj’s thighs and standing up. 

Nikolaj squeaks, then blushes. He tightens his legs around Patrik’s waist and pulls Patrik down into the pillows with him.

“Oof,” Nikolaj wheezes, the breath knocked out of him when Patrik lands on top of him. He recovers quickly, winding his fingers into the hair at the nape of Patrik’s neck and pulling him down to kiss him.

They make out for a while, unhurried but still heated. Arousal burns at the base of Patrik’s spine. He’s been on the edge for most of the last couple hours—ever since Nikolaj first climbed into his lap—and now he has Nikolaj half naked and wanting underneath him.

Nikolaj loses his patience eventually, hitching his hips up against Patrik’s to get some friction on his cock. “Hurry up,” he complains.

Patrik grabs his hips and pushes him back into the mattress. “Slow down,” he says, teasing. He kisses the tip of Nikolaj’s nose, smiling at the way his face scrunches up. Still, he does lean over to his nightstand, fumbling through the drawer for a second to grab lube and a condom. He drops them next to the pillow.

Nikolaj blinks up at him, eyes wide and so, so blue. Patrik cups his cheeks, sweeping his thumb over the smudge of purple glitter, and kisses him, warm and lingering. Nikolaj grasps uselessly at his shoulders when he draws away. 

There’s still something Patrik wants to do. 

He kisses down Nikolaj’s throat, nipping at his collarbone but not pausing for long before moving lower. 

When Patrik gets his mouth on Nikolaj’s nipple, sucking lightly at the metal there, Nikolaj arches into his mouth and moans, high and breathy. His hands fly up to the back of Patrik’s head, fingers slipping through his hair like he wants to pull him closer.

By the time Patrik finishes with the second one, Nikolaj’s chest is red with his blush but also from Patrik’s stubble scraping rough against his skin. Nikolaj is trembling a little, his eyes shut and his breath coming too quick. Patrik rubs a hand over his chest, soothing. Nikolaj jerks when his thumb catches on one of his oversensitive nipples.

“Patrik,” he says, his voice shaky. 

“I’ve got you,” Patrik murmurs. “Hey, look at me?”

Nikolaj flushes darker, but he opens his eyes. Patrik kisses him quick, then grabs the lube and moves down Nikolaj’s body. 

He dips his tongue into Nikolaj’s belly button, his teeth catching against the little gemstone before he keeps going. 

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Nikolaj’s black panties and tugs them down his thighs. He can’t pull them off all the way—Nikolaj’s garters are attached to a band around his waist that holds them up, the straps getting in the way of Patrik taking off Nikolaj’s panties. 

It’s enough that he can get his mouth on Nikolaj’s cock, not bothering with any sort of foreplay. They’re both too on edge for that. 

Nikolaj’s cock is practically leaking and he muffles his whine when Patrik sucks him down. Patrik looks up and sees Nikolaj biting down on his knuckles, eyes squeezed shut. He pulls off and strokes the insides of Nikolaj’s thighs, waiting for Nikolaj to look at him. 

“Niky,” he says, soft. Nikolaj’s music has stopped. Patrik didn’t notice when it did, but it’s quiet now, only the sound of their breathing filling the room. Nikolaj takes his fingers out of his mouth. “You don’t have to be quiet,” Patrik tells him. 

Nikolaj nods wordlessly, then he fists his hands in the sheets.

Patrik kisses his hip, relishing the way Nikolaj’s thighs twitch around him. “Good,” he says, and he gets his mouth back on Nikolaj’s cock. 

He takes his time, going painfully slowly because this isn’t the main event, no matter how much fun Nikolaj seems to be having. He doesn’t want Nikolaj to come before he’s inside him, even though he wonders if he could get Nikolaj to come more than once, leave him shaking and spent, then decides that’s a little much for a first time. 

That doesn’t stop him from thinking about it as he slicks up his fingers, sliding the first one over Nikolaj’s hole until he relaxes enough that Patrik can press in. 

“Another,” Nikolaj gasps, smacking at Patrik’s shoulder. Patrik’s barely put the first one in, but Nikolaj is a big boy. If he wants more, Patrik will give him more.

Patrik gives him another.

Nikolaj’s head falls back against the pillows and he whines, fingers flexing against the sheets. He twists a bit, like he isn’t sure if he wants to press forward into Patrik’s mouth or back against his fingers. Patrik decides to help him out a little. 

Patrik takes his mouth off Nikolaj’s cock, mouthing at the soft skin of Nikolaj’s inner thighs while his fingers work inside Nikolaj. He catches the strap of a garter in his teeth, tugging at it just enough for Nikolaj to feel it. He spreads his fingers and pushes a third one in. 

“Oh,” Nikolaj says. His knuckles are white where he’s clutching at the sheets. “Fuck, Patrik—” 

Patrik presses a soft kiss to the spot he’d been leaving a mark and leans back up to look at Nikolaj’s face. “You good?” he asks. He curls his fingers a little, watches Nikolaj’s face and listens to his choked noises.

“I’m—ah, I’m _ so _ good, fuck,” Nikolaj gasps, arching his back to push Patrik’s fingers deeper into him. “Can you—” His voice cuts off with a gasp when Patrik pushes right against his prostate. 

“Can I?” Patrik asks, smiling a bit shakily. Nikolaj is—well. He’s a _ lot, _like this. 

Nikolaj manages to muster a scowl, albeit not a very convincing one. _ “Fuck _me,” he hisses, spreading his legs as much as he can with his panties around his thighs. 

Patrik spreads his fingers one last time before sliding them out, wiping them off on the sheets. He gets the condom on and slicks up as perfunctory as he can. He leans down to kiss Nikolaj again, gentle. He pulls back slowly, nudging their noses together.

“How flexible are you?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer before he grips the backs of Nikolaj’s knees and pushes them up until his knees are hooked over Patrik’s shoulders.

“I’m a professional stripper,” Nikolaj says, “it’s kind of my job.” The effect of his snark is spoiled by the breathlessness to his voice.

Patrik presses his cock against Nikolaj’s hole and slowly, slowly pushes in.

Nikolaj’s mouth drops open and his eyes flutter shut. His hands fly over Patrik’s arms and shoulders, then to his own skin. He strokes at his chest and presses his fingers into the bruise on his neck. His other hand clutches at his own hair.

Patrik bites the inside of his cheek_ hard _ when his hips are finally flush with Nikolaj’s ass, trying not to embarrass himself. 

“Niky,” he says, tense, “good?” 

Nikolaj shifts a little, trying to press back against Patrik. “Just—move,” Nikolaj says. “Please.”

Patrik decides he likes it when Nikolaj asks nicely. He leans down, effectively folding Nikolaj in half, and kisses him. He lifts one hand touch the side of Nikolaj’s face, fingertips scratching lightly through his hair. He nips at Nikolaj’s lower lip before leaning back.

He moves his hips, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. He does it again, and again, going a little bit faster, a little bit harder every time. Every time, Nikolaj gets a little bit louder.

Nikolaj tosses his head on the pillow like he’s looking for something to muffle himself with, but he’s holding onto Patrik for dear life and he can’t. His blush spreads from his face down his neck and his chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” Patrik says, hitching Nikolaj’s hips higher so he can get a better angle. He thumbs over Nikolaj’s nipples, pleased when Nikolaj gasps and shudders at the feeling. 

“Patty,” Nikolaj says, and the nickname makes Patrik clench his jaw and thrust harder. “You’re—you’re so—” Nikolaj’s voice breaks on a sound almost like a sob, and he comes.

Patrik swears at the sight, ready to pull out and finish himself off with his hand, but Nikolaj tightens his legs around Patrik and stares up at him hazily. 

“Come on,” Nikolaj says. His voice is wrecked and he looks like a mess, but there’s a challenge in his eyes.

Patrik accepts. 

It doesn’t take him long to come, Nikolaj clenching around him and otherwise not moving. When he’s finished, he pulls out carefully and tosses the condom in the trash. 

“Kobe,” Nikolaj says tiredly.

Patrik laughs. “Really?” he says.

Nikolaj shrugs lazily. He’s sprawled across the pillows, a couple bruises stark against his skin and his hair a mess. His own come is drying on his belly, which probably isn’t very comfortable. His panties are still twisted around his thighs. Patrik hooks a finger under one of his garters. 

“We should shower,” Patrik says, even though it’s late and he isn’t too sure how well his legs will support him. He feels pretty gross, though. “My shower is big enough for two people, come on.”

“Ugh,” Nikolaj says, but he slides out of bed and follows Patrik across the hall to the bathroom. 

Patrik starts the shower and Nikolaj takes off his garter and panties while the water warms up. He steps under the spray and sighs almost dreamily. Patrik follows him in after grabbing a cloth from the cabinet under the sink. He soaks the cloth and covers it in soap before helping Nikolaj scrub himself clean.

“Don’t you have a, um, loofah?” Nikolaj asks. His face is tilted into the water and his eyes are closed. “Big shot NHL player, millionaire and everything, can’t even treat me with a loofah?” 

“What’s a loofah?” Patrik answers. 

“Hmm,” Nikolaj says. “Finnish. Right. Um, those shower scrubs?” Nikolaj makes a round shape with his hands. 

“Oh,” Patrik says. “I don’t—I don’t have one.”

Nikolaj hums and sways into him. “You should get one,” he says. “They’re nice.”

“I’ll think about it,” Patrik says, and they don’t say anything else while they wash their hair. 

They dry off with Patrik’s fluffy towels before going back to the bedroom. Patrik flops into bed and looks expectantly at Nikolaj. 

Nikolaj looks uncertain. He’s standing near the pile of his clothes, his towel still in his hands. Patrik doesn’t wait for him to ask. He just pats the mattress beside him.

Patrik smiles at the way Nikolaj tucks himself into bed beside him, curling close into his side. Nikolaj snuffles a little bit while he gets comfortable, then he breathes out a sigh as he falls asleep. 

Before Patrik falls asleep too, he watches Nikolaj. A little creepy, maybe, but whatever. Nikolaj looks soft and warm like this. Vulnerable. In the club, he was doing his job. Patrik smiles to himself at the image of Nikolaj’s _ customer service _ persona. While they were fucking, he was desperate, needy.

Patrik wonders how many other parts of himself Nikolaj will let him see. He kind of wants to get to know all of them.

Instead of thinking too hard about that, Patrik turns his face into Nikolaj’s hair and breathes in the scent of his own shampoo. He likes that Nikolaj smells like him, he thinks, and it doesn’t take him very long to fall asleep after that.

* * *

Patrik wakes up alone. 

For a minute, he thinks Nikolaj must’ve woken up, got dressed and left without waking him. He feels a twist of disappointment in his belly, then he smells the coffee. 

Patrik rolls out of bed and throws on some boxers and a T-shirt, runs his fingers through his hair to make it settle down at least a bit and goes to see what Nikolaj is up to. 

Nikolaj is standing by Patrik’s coffeemaker, two mugs on the counter in front of him. He’s wearing Patrik’s clothes, the sleeves of the hoodie pushed up and the sweatpants rolled up at the ankles.

He has pretty ankles, Patrik thinks. Delicate. He steps up behind Nikolaj and presses a kiss to the side of his neck. Nikolaj tilts his head away for easier access. 

“Morning,” Nikolaj says quietly. His voice matches the pale morning light streaming through the window, the soft sounds of cars driving by in the street below. 

“Hi,” Patrik answers. He squeezes Nikolaj’s hips gently. “You’re wearing my clothes.”

“Oh, um. Sorry, I didn’t—”

“No,” Patrik interrupts. He slides his thumbs under the hoodie and strokes the soft skin there. “I like it. You look good.”

Nikolaj laughs, tipping his head back against Patrik’s shoulder and smiling up at him. “Flatterer,” he says. He kisses the underside of Patrik’s jaw. “Now make yourself useful and make some food, would you?” He elbows Patrik gently in the belly.

“Bossy,” Patrik says, but he steps back and looks in his fridge.

He ends up making eggs and toast, and finds some bacon to cook, too. Nikolaj pours the coffee, adding the right amounts of milk and sugar at Patrik’s request. They sit on the stools at the breakfast bar, eating together in comfortable silence.

Patrik thinks it’s a little weird—weird how _ not weird _ it is. He met Nikolaj last night. Nikolaj knows who he is, Nikolaj could out him, if he wanted, and Patrik thinks he should be a little more worried about that. Somehow, though, he’s confident that Nikolaj was being honest when he said he wouldn’t tell. 

“This is weird,” Nikolaj says. He takes a bite of his toast. Patrik can see him squinting thoughtfully out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah,” Patrik agrees. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“But you were thinking it in a, uh, weirdly not weird way, right?” 

Patrik has to take a moment to sort out those words in his head, then he nods slowly. “Yes. Like—it should be weird, but it isn’t.” He looks at Nikolaj to find him looking back, his head tilted and his blue eyes sharp but hopeful. 

“Yeah,” Nikolaj says. “Exactly.” 

They manage to finish their breakfast, then Patrik gives Nikolaj a new toothbrush and they brush their teeth side by side in Patrik’s bathroom. 

Nikolaj sort of spoils it when he drops to his knees in the hallway right after, pulling Patrik’s boxers down and sucking his dick. Patrik pulls his hair, breath hitching when Nikolaj’s moan vibrates around his cock. He comes down Nikolaj’s throat, then pulls him up to kiss him. 

Nikolaj’s mouth tastes like minty toothpaste and come, but Patrik ignores the unpleasant combination and keeps kissing him while he slides a hand into Nikolaj’s sweats to jerk him off.

After, Nikolaj leans into Patrik’s chest while they catch their breath.

“We’ve gotta shower,” he says finally, muffled against Patrik’s shirt. 

“And you should probably brush your teeth again,” Patrik says, only half joking. 

Nikolaj smacks his lips, wrinkling his nose at the taste. “Probably,” he agrees. 

So they go back into the bathroom and Nikolaj brushes his teeth quickly before hopping in the shower with Patrik. They make out lazily under the spray until they’re ready to go again, this time jerking each other off without urgency. Nikolaj whimpers softly into Patrik’s mouth when he comes.

They stay in the shower even after that, just touching each other and learning each other’s bodies. They get out eventually, but only once their fingers have started to wrinkle like prunes. 

The sweats Nikolaj had been wearing are come-stained now, but Patrik just tosses him another pair. Nikolaj doesn’t say anything about the Jets logo with Patrik’s number stitched underneath it, but he does give Patrik a _ look. _

Patrik ignores it and puts on his own comfy clothes. “You wanna play ‘chel?” he asks. 

Nikolaj beams. 

They play video games on the couch for the rest of the morning, Nikolaj’s feet kicked up into Patrik’s lap while he reclines against the arm of the couch. 

Nikolaj shouts at Patrik whenever he gets scored on, so the apartment gets pretty loud. Patrik doesn’t mind—he likes seeing Nikolaj get worked up, even if it’s not in a sexy bedroom way. 

Eventually, he pauses the game and looks over at Nikolaj with raised eyebrows. Nikolaj looks chastened for about half a second, then he crawls over and climbs into Patrik’s lap. 

“Hey,” Nikolaj says. 

“Hi,” Patrik answers, and he pushes his hands under Nikolaj’s hoodie to stroke over his nipple piercings. 

They kiss for a while, game forgotten on the TV, then Nikolaj’s stomach growls. Patrik breaks away to laugh, then laugh harder at the embarrassed look on Nikolaj’s face. 

“Sorry,” Nikolaj mutters grumpily, but his lips are twitching. 

“If you’re hungry, you could’ve just said so,” Patrik says, smiling. He takes his hands out from Nikolaj’s sweater. “Wanna get lunch?” 

“Can you drive me home?” Nikolaj asks. Before cold disappointment can settle in Patrik’s gut, Nikolaj adds, “I wanna put on some clean clothes before I go out, like, in public.” 

Patrik tries not to relax too obviously, but the goofy smile on Nikolaj’s face probably means he noticed. “Shut up,” Patrik says. 

“Aww,” Nikolaj says. He doesn’t say anything else, though, just kisses Patrik’s cheek before clambering out of his lap so they can change. 

Nikolaj puts on his clothes from last night for the drive to his place. He keeps his hands to himself, this time.

Nikolaj’s apartment is smaller than Patrik’s, obviously—Patrik’s making an NHL salary, he can afford a bigger place. Nikolaj still seems a little embarrassed when he unlocks the door. 

“It’s not much,” he says, “but it’s mine.”

The apartment is clean, but in a way that makes Patrik unsure if it’s because Nikolaj is good at tidying up or if it’s because there’s not much to tidy. Nikolaj doesn’t seem to have a lot of stuff, not many of the things people just _ have _ that make the places they live their _ homes. _

He has a couple books and some papers on his dining table, but that seems to be it. Patrik checks them out while Nikolaj’s in his room. 

There’s a soft sound behind him as Nikolaj steps back into the room. Patrik sets the book down and turns around. 

Nikolaj is wearing different jeans and a hoodie under a denim jacket. He’s wearing his gray toque again.

“Kinesiology?” Patrik asks. 

Nikolaj smiles crookedly. “Yeah,” he says. “Maybe I’ll give you a massage some time.” 

Patrik snorts. “I appreciate it.” 

“That’s why I started, you know,” Nikolaj blurts. He winces. “I needed a job, and. It’s fun.” 

“You don’t have to explain,” Patrik says with a shrug. “It’s your job. You don’t need a better reason for doing it.” It’s true—Patrik doesn’t care that Nikolaj’s job isn’t exactly… conventional. Neither is his, after all. 

“Oh,” Nikolaj says. He smiles a relieved sort of smile. “Okay.” 

On the way back to the car, Patrik throws an arm around Nikolaj’s shoulders and tugs him into his side, hoping that gesture will be enough to get across everything he’s not sure how to say. The way Nikolaj leans into him makes him pretty sure that it is. 

Patrik takes Nikolaj to a cutesy little bakery and buys them sandwiches to go. Next, Patrik drives them to a park and leads Nikolaj to a picnic table out of the way enough that he can hook their ankles together while they eat. 

It’s a beautiful day, golden October sunshine making the trees seem like they’re on fire. It’s crisp, but not too cold that it’s uncomfortable to be outside. Patrik might say it’s a _ perfect _ day.

“Hey, Patrik?” Nikolaj interrupts the comfortable silence, setting his sandwich down. Patrik looks at him expectantly. “Is this, um. Is this a date?” He keeps his voice quiet even though there’s nobody in earshot.

“Yeah,” Patrik says, figuring there’s no point in hesitating about it.

“Okay,” Nikolaj says, his lips quirked in a tiny smile. “Just checking.” He kicks Patrik gently in the shin. 

When they finish their lunch, they walk through the park for a while. Patrik wishes that he could reach out to take Nikolaj’s hand, lace their fingers together and let Nikolaj and his quick steps pull him along.

Still, he can’t do that and he knows it. It’s especially obvious when he’s stopped to sign a little boy’s hat before he can move on.

“Do you get that a lot?” Nikolaj asks, only partly joking.

He shrugs. People recognize him a lot, especially in Winnipeg and at home, but he’s used to it. It’s been like this since he was eighteen. It’s why he can’t hold Nikolaj’s hand in the park, no matter how much he wants to. 

His career wouldn’t be ruined if it got out, probably, he’s too good to be sent down and forgotten about, but he might get traded, the rest of the league might look at him funny at the very best, and his reputation would be changed forever.

“I don’t think about it too much,” he answers finally, but he lets his tone do the talking. He thinks about it too much, but not in the way Nikolaj meant when he asked. 

Nikolaj nods, though. He shuffles over enough to bump his shoulder against Patrik’s and offer him a reassuring smile. “Maybe one day,” he says. 

Patrik bumps him back. “I hope so,” he says, and he’s never meant it more. 

The two of them stay out all afternoon, poking around downtown until the sun disappears over the rooftops. Patrik wonders where the time went. 

“Dinner?” he asks. 

“Sure,” Nikolaj says. He looks at Patrik expectantly. “Where to?” 

Patrik takes him to the nicest place they can go in jeans and gets them a table tucked away in the back. He tells Nikolaj he can order whatever he wants. They talk for what feels like hours, about their families, about their friends, about hockey—Nikolaj used to play before a shoulder injury when he was a teenager ended his career before it could really get started.

“I was in junior,” Nikolaj says. “Halifax Mooseheads, you know? Couldn’t keep playing, but I was already in Canada, so.” He shrugs. “I just kind of. Stuck around, I guess.” There’s a somber look in his eyes when he talks about it.

Patrik nudges his foot against Nikolaj’s. “I’m glad you did,” he says. He hates that Nikolaj lost what could’ve been a shot in the NHL, he hates that he was hurt, but if it had to happen, he’s happy it brought Nikolaj to him. 

“Yeah. I work with the U of M team, too. It’s not so bad,” Nikolaj says, smiling crookedly. “Better now, though.”

“Soft,” Patrik says gently. 

“For you, maybe,” Nikolaj says. Then he narrows his eyes. “Try not to get too used to it.” 

Patrik drives Nikolaj home after dinner and walks him up to his apartment. Nikolaj unlocks his door and is about to step inside when he pauses and turns around.

“I almost forgot,” he says, pulling out his phone and pushing it into Patrik’s hands.

An empty contact screen stares back at him. Patrik types in his number and gives the phone back. Patrik gives Nikolaj his phone to do the same.

He slips his phone back into his pocket when Nikolaj gives it back. “I had a really nice, uh. Time with you.” He can’t really say _ day, _ since they’ve been together since last night.

“Me too,” Nikolaj says. He hesitates, glancing down the hallway to check that it’s empty. When he can see that nobody’s coming, he steps closer to Patrik and curls a hand around the back of his neck to kiss him.

He tastes like the chocolate ice cream he’d had for dessert.

“Goodnight,” he says when they part. He clears his throat. “Bye.”

“I’ll see you later, Nikolaj,” Patrik says. He kisses Nikolaj one more time. “Have fun at work. Get lots of tips.” 

Nikolaj winks at him, stepping back through the door of his apartment. “I always do,” he says cheerfully, and he waves a little before closing the door. 

Patrik wanders back to his car in a bit of a daze. He gets in the car, buckles his seatbelt and starts the engine, feeling like he’s in a dream.

He sits in the parking lot of Nikolaj’s apartment building and sighs. He thinks about Nikolaj’s blue eyes, his fluffy blond hair, his sharp smile and the warmth of his skin. He thinks about the sadness in Nikolaj’s voice when he talked about hockey, his easy presence at breakfast, the way he seems to slot so neatly into Patrik’s life. 

He’s in way over his head, he thinks. Not something that happens often. 

As long as everything with Nikolaj stays easy for as long as possible, Patrik figures they’ll be okay. That he’ll be okay. 

* * *

The next day, Patrik goes to morning skate and ignores Kyle and Josh’s questions about why he left the club without telling anyone. 

“It wasn’t very nice,” Kyle tells him. “Especially after what we did!”   
  
Patrik chops him in the shins with his stick and skates away. 

He checks his phone on the way back to his car and sees a text from Nikolaj. 

_ hey, i’ll be watching the game tonight. you better impress me. _Nikolaj has tacked on a winking emoji at the end. 

_ you want me to score for you? _Patrik replies, smiling. He pockets his phone and gets into the car. 

_ i believe in you, _Nikolaj says. 

_ i’ll do my best, _Patrik answers. 

Lying in bed for his nap that afternoon, he keeps thinking about the way Nikolaj’s teasing text about _ believing in him _ made his stomach feel warm and fluttery. He thinks he’ll score tonight.

He does.

About halfway through the second, Josh sends him a crisp pass and he shoots it into the back of the net. Before the guys get to him to celly, he points at one of the cameras and grins.

_ That was for you, _ he means. He thinks Nikolaj will know. 

He doesn’t score again, but the team is fired up and they win 4-1. 

He has to wait until he’s out of the locker room to check his phone, but he already knows Nikolaj has texted him.

_ aww, thanks, _ says the first text. Then, _ that was hot. come to the club? _

Patrik is already checking the directions on his phone.

He only stops once on the way there.

When he steps inside, Nikolaj is the first thing he sees. Tonight, it seems, is his turn on the stage. He’s wearing something black and feathery with lacy gloves. As Patrik watches, he drops his gloves onto the floor.

Somebody in the crowd whistles and Patrik smirks. He heads to the bar, always watching Nikolaj out of the corner of his eye. He gets a Coke and makes his way closer to the stage.

Nikolaj has one leg hooked around the pole and he’s dancing slowly. The light flickers on his belly button piercing. 

It seems his act is just finishing up, because his eyes meet Patrik’s and he goes a little bit harder before the music fades. A chorus of whistles and cheers starts up, and Nikolaj collects his money. Patrik slides a few bills under Nikolaj’s garters and winks at him.

Nikolaj grins and tilts his head towards the hallway leading to the private rooms before he moves on. 

Patrik finishes his drink and goes to wait for him near the entrance to the hallway. Nikolaj meets him there after a couple minutes, smiling and flushed from his performance.

“That was really good,” Patrik tells him, and Nikolaj’s smile widens.

“Thanks,” he says, then reaches out to take Patrik’s hand and tug him into the purple room. They sit together on the couch, but Nikolaj curls into his side instead of climbing into his lap like last time they were here. “I can’t stay too long, but I wanted to see you,” Nikolaj says. He looks a little shy about admitting it.

Those fluttery feelings are back again.

Patrik kisses Nikolaj to hide any stupid look he might have on his face. Nikolaj kisses back eagerly for a minute, then he presses his hand to Patrik’s chest and they separate slowly. 

“I should give these back,” Nikolaj says, tugging the bills Patrik gave him out of his garters and trying to pass them back to Patrik.

Four fifties—the maximum the ATM would let him take out.

Patrik closes his hand around Nikolaj’s, keeping the bills in Nikolaj’s hand. “No,” he says. “It’s for you. For your job, right?” 

“But Patrik—” Nikolaj tries.

Patrik shakes his head. “Listen,” he says, looking Nikolaj in the eyes, “I’m a millionaire.” Nikolaj snorts. “I am, okay, and that means two hundred dollars for me means a lot less than for someone else. If I gave you a twenty, I’d feel cheap.”

Nikolaj sighs, but he relaxes into Patrik’s side again. “What, you wanna be my sugar daddy or something?” 

Both of them laugh. 

“I like taking care of you,” Patrik admits, too honest. He stares at his lap, a bit embarrassed that he just _ said it. _

“Oh,” Nikolaj says quietly. There’s a pause, then he reaches over to take Patrik’s hand. He bumps his head against Patrik’s shoulder. “Soft,” he says. 

Patrik huffs a laugh and turns his face into Nikolaj’s hair. He still smells like Patrik’s shampoo. “I like you a lot,” Patrik says. “Is that dumb?” 

Nikolaj sits back and takes Patrik’s face in his hands, his eyes locked on Patrik’s. “It’s maybe a little dumb,” Nikolaj says, “but that’s okay, because—” He pauses and swallows hard. “Because I like you a lot, too. I want to know, like, everything.”

Patrik smiles, relieved. Nikolaj grins at him and squeezes Patrik’s cheeks a little, giggling.

“Stop that,” Patrik says, trying and failing to be stern as Nikolaj squishes his face.

Nikolaj snickers and lets go of Patrik before crawling into his lap and wrapping his arms around Patrik’s neck. He tucks his nose into the side of Patrik’s throat. Patrik wraps his arms around him, rubbing slow circles onto his bare lower back. He feels Nikolaj take a deep breath, then feels the way his tension leaks out of him when he releases it.

Patrik makes a questioning sound.

“I’m okay,” Nikolaj says. Patrik can feel his lips moving against his skin. “I’m just—I didn’t expect this, you know? Having a—dating an NHL player.” He laughs softly. “If you told thirteen year old me this is where I’d be in ten years, he’d laugh in your face.” He leans back just enough to press his forehead against Patrik’s. “I’m pretty happy, though.” 

“Yeah,” Patrik murmurs. He curls a hand around the back of Nikolaj’s neck. “Me too.” He tugs Nikolaj in and they kiss, slow and open-mouthed. 

Nikolaj pulls away before things can get too heated. “I really do have to go,” he says, sounding disappointed. He pecks Patrik on the lips once more. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Yeah,” Patrik says, waiting for Nikolaj to get up so he can stand. He cups the side of Nikolaj’s neck and presses his thumb gently against the hidden hickey there. “See you.” He leaves satisfied with the knowledge that no matter how many of these people Nikolaj dances for tonight, none of them get to touch him. 

* * *

It’s been three weeks since they first met when Patrik decides to get Nikolaj tickets for a Jets game. He knows Nikolaj’s schedule now, so he waits until they’re finishing up dinner at his place before he slides a ticket across the table. 

Nikolaj picks it up curiously, then his eyes widen and he holds the slip of paper close to his chest like he can’t quite believe it.

“I want you to come watch me play,” Patrik says.

“Thank you,” Nikolaj says quietly. Carefully, he tucks the ticket into his wallet before getting up and rounding the table. 

Patrik pushes his chair back, and Nikolaj settles into his lap and kisses him.

“You’re so nice to me,” Nikolaj mumbles into his mouth. 

“I told you,” Patrik says between kisses, “I like taking care of you. I like getting you nice things.” He presses Nikolaj back. “Speaking of nice things.” He reaches down and picks up the bag he’d hidden beside his chair and gives it to Nikolaj.

Nikolaj looks at him curiously, but he reaches into the bag and pulls out the jersey. “Of course,” he says, but he’s grinning like an idiot. He slides off Patrik’s lap and strips out of his shirt, then unfolds the jersey and pulls it over his head.

Patrik’s breath stutters in his chest. He’d gotten one of his game worn jerseys—washed, obviously—and bullied everyone on the team into signing it. Point being, the jersey is too big on Nikolaj. It sits funny on his shoulders and the sleeves are long enough that they cover his hands, and the hem goes most of the way down his thighs. 

“How do I look?” Nikolaj asks, holding his arms out to the sides. The spark in his eyes makes Patrik think he knows exactly how he looks.

Patrik stands up slowly and steps close enough to Nikolaj that Nikolaj has to tip his head back at an awkward angle to look him in the eyes. He closes his hands around Nikolaj’s biceps, feeling the _ 29 _under his palms.

“I think you should take this off before it gets dirty,” Patrik says, just barely managing to keep his voice steady. 

Nikolaj grins at him, stepping back and taking off the jersey. He folds it carefully and puts it back into the bag before facing Patrik again. “Any other presents I should know about?” Nikolaj teases.

Patrik raises an eyebrow, then pulls Nikolaj close by the hips and spins him around so his back is pressed to Patrik’s chest. He leans down to kiss the side of Nikolaj’s neck, backing away with the barest hint of teeth.

“Just one more, actually,” Patrik murmurs. He reaches into his hoodie pocket and carefully pulls out the small parcel he’d been keeping in there. “Close your eyes.”

“Okay,” Nikolaj says, sounding a little confused but curious all the same. 

Patrik unfolds the wrapping paper as quietly as he can and pulls out the thin gold chain. It’s slender enough that it doesn’t make any sound when it moves. Patrik makes sure the chains aren’t tangled and he puts the jewelry on Nikolaj carefully, making sure everything is settled in place and smoothed out.

Nikolaj shivers in his arms when he realizes what it is. 

“You can open your eyes now,” Patrik says.

The first thing Nikolaj does when he opens his eyes is raise a hand to his collarbone, hooking a finger into the metal circle that sits there. He drags his hand lower, following the chain down his stomach to below his diaphragm where a second circle rests. 

“Show me,” Patrik says, and Nikolaj turns around. 

The chain starts like a regular necklace until the first circle joins with another chain, going down his abdomen to a second circle on his belly. Two chains are attached to that second circle, draping over his hips and meeting in the back, just over his ass. 

“You’re so pretty,” Patrik tells him, hooking a finger through the loop at his collarbone. He tugs on it with barely any pressure, but Nikolaj stumbles forward until they’re pressed together. 

“C’mon,” he mumbles, his eyes wide and dark, and Patrik leans down to kiss him.

They barely make it to the bedroom but once they get there, Patrik shoves Nikolaj into the mattress and kisses him until Nikolaj is shoving the lube at him. Patrik fingers him open until Nikolaj is practically crying, then he grips Nikolaj’s hips and fucks him as hard as Nikolaj wants. 

The chains are probably twisted and tangled uncomfortably under Nikolaj’s back, but he doesn’t seem to care, clawing at Patrik’s shoulders and back while Patrik gives him what he wants. Patrik curls two fingers into the chain at his neck and pulls it hard enough that Nikolaj feels it. 

Nikolaj drags his head down to kiss him, biting down on his lower lip when he comes. When Patrik follows him over only a few seconds later, he returns the favour and makes Nikolaj whimper. 

After, Patrik catches his breath and watches Nikolaj do the same. His heartbeat speeds up when Nikolaj lifts a hand to toy with the chain at his throat, Nikolaj’s eyes slipping shut as he twists it around his fingers.

“This is nice,” Nikolaj mumbles, raising the chain a little so Patrik knows what he’s talking about. “Maybe I’ll wear it on stage some time.”

Patrik slides an arm around Nikolaj’s waist and brushes a kiss over his shoulder. “Don’t,” he whispers. “Keep this one just for us.” 

Nikolaj looks at him, eyes huge and blue, and he nods. Patrik kisses him fiercely and they make out until Patrik gently squeezes one of Nikolaj’s nipples, feeling the metal under his fingertips, and Nikolaj squeaks. 

Patrik raises an eyebrow at him. Nikolaj, red-faced and embarrassed, swats him in the face with a pillow.

“Wow,” Patrik says, “rude.” He grabs the other pillow and bonks Nikolaj on the head with it. 

They whack each other with Patrik’s pillows until they’re laughing so hard they can barely breathe, then they flop into the sheets and Patrik pulls the blankets up around them. Nikolaj snuggles close to his side.

He’s almost asleep when Nikolaj speaks.

“Hey, Patty?” he says softly.

“Mm.”

“I’m really glad your teammates bought you that dance.” 

Patrik smiles into the dark and presses his nose into Nikolaj’s hair. “So am I,” he says. 

* * *

Patrik has a great feeling about this game. The rest of the team can tell, some of the guys grinning at the way he’s buzzing. Kyle comes over to him and squints at him suspiciously. 

“What’s going on with you?” he asks. 

Patrik shrugs and pulls his jersey on. “Nothing,” he says, smirking at Kyle’s frown. “We’re just going to win tonight, that’s all.”

Kyle can’t help his laugh. “Fuck yeah, we are,” he says cheerfully. He fist bumps Patrik and moves on. 

When they skate out for warm ups, Patrik shoots at the net a few times, does his stretches, then skates a puck around the board and stick handles by himself. He flips it up onto his stick and tosses it into the air, catching it on his stick when it falls.

Maybe he’s showing off a little.

He catches the puck in his glove and turns around. Nikolaj raises an eyebrow at him through the glass and Patrik stifles his grin. He throws the puck over the glass. 

Nikolaj catches it easily, but he only holds onto it long enough to pass it to one of the little kids nearby. 

Patrik thinks he might be in love.

_ Oops. _

Now is probably not the best time for revelations. 

Patrik skates away, not wanting his teammates to get suspicious of why he’s been lurking in the same spot for so long.

The game starts like any other: line up, anthem, puck drop, hockey. 

The Jets are clicking tonight, everyone feeling good and wanting to win.

Patrik scores after ten minutes have gone by. Then Mark scores before the period finishes. 

They go into the second and just can’t seem to score, but the Blue Jackets manage to get two to tie it, then they score again in the third. 

Patrik grinds his teeth as the clock ticks down, then he feels a tap on his shoulder and he jumps the boards. He skates hard, ignoring the ticking clock, then the puck is on his tape and he shoots and—

The goal horn blares. 

“Two seconds left!” Mark yells in his ear, shaking him violently. “Great frickin’ timing, bud!” 

Wheels thumps him on the helmet in an affectionate sort of way. 

They’re going to overtime.

Patrik scores the game winner off a beautiful pass from Kyle. 

He doesn’t wait for the team to come to him, instead leaping into the glass in front of Nikolaj with a whoop and turns to catch Kyle. Hats rain down around him, covering the ice. 

“Great pass,” he says, laughing, and Kyle is grinning but there’s a thoughtful look on his face.

It’s a little disturbing.

Patrik gets first star and he gives his stick to a little girl on the other side of the ice, then he skates off to shower and dress as quick as he can. He has to do media first, which is kind of annoying because he just wants to see Nikolaj, but he bears it.

He’s still not out of the locker room until everyone else has left. He texts Nikolaj to meet him by his car and waits for confirmation before heading out. 

Nikolaj is leaning against the side of his car when he gets there, looking cosy in his scarf and coat. He glances up from his phone and grins when he hears Patrik’s footsteps, pushing off of the car and striding over to meet him. Patrik looks around quickly and when he’s certain there’s nobody watching, he sweeps Nikolaj into his arms and kisses him.

“Hey,” Nikolaj says breathlessly. His nose is pink from the cold November air, but Patrik’s pretty sure his pink cheeks are from more than just the cold. “That was really hot,” he continues.

Well. You can take the player out of the game.

“Oh, yeah?” Patrik says. He winds his arms around Nikolaj’s waist. “You want me to take you home?” 

Nikolaj nods. “I wanna blow you, let’s go.” 

Patrik isn’t stupid enough to have sex in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of Bell MTS Place, but he considers it very seriously for just a moment.

The instant Patrik closes the door to his apartment, Nikolaj shoves him up against it and kisses him. He fists his hands in Patrik’s suit jacket, pulls back enough to say, “so fucking hot in this,” then he kisses Patrik again.

They don’t spend that long making out because Nikolaj has a plan. After a minute, Nikolaj sinks to his knees, unbuckles Patrik’s belt and unzips his pants enough to get his dick out, then gives Patrik one of the best blowjobs of his life.

When he’s done and Patrik can, like, move his fingers again, he drags Nikolaj to the bedroom and returns the favour. 

“Whew,” Nikolaj says.

Patrik flops an arm around until he can weakly smack Nikolaj’s thigh. “Get up,” he says. “Ice cream."

“Ice cream?”

“Ice cream.”

They drag themselves out of bed—Patrik only now takes off his jacket and tie—and make their way to the kitchen. Nikolaj sits at the breakfast bar and rests his chin in his hands. He’s lost most of his clothes since they got inside, and all he’s wearing are his briefs and the hoodie he’d been wearing under the jersey. 

Patrik scoops Smarties ice cream into a bowl and grabs two spoons before carrying it over to Nikolaj. Their fingers brush when he passes Nikolaj his spoon. 

They eat the ice cream in silence, their knees pressed together under the counter. Their spoons click together sometimes, and at one point Nikolaj starts a pretend sword fight with his spoon. They laugh quietly, but don’t say anything. There isn’t anything that needs to be said, really, and when Nikolaj kisses him after the bowl is empty, he tastes sweet and cold like ice cream.

* * *

Nikolaj spends Christmas Day at Patrik’s place. He gets Patrik a silver necklace, just a simple chain, and it’s perfect. Patrik puts it on immediately and doesn’t take it off for the rest of the day. 

He gives Nikolaj a nice wool sweater, as close to Jets blue as he could find. 

Nikolaj puts it on and curls into Patrik’s side with a mug of hot chocolate in one hand and a candy cane in the other, and they spend the morning watching dumb Hallmark movies and making fun of the characters.

They try making soup for lunch, fail, and end up having pasta instead. Nikolaj claims he’s been getting better at ‘chel, so they play that for a while. Nikolaj loses every game except the last one, but only because he steals the controller out of Patrik’s hands. 

“Cheater,” Patrik says while Nikolaj looks at him smugly. 

“Whatever,” Nikolaj says.

They go out for a walk in the empty streets of Patrik’s neighbourhood, the snow and ice crunching under their boots the only thing to be heard. Impulsively, Patrik reaches out and takes Nikolaj’s hand.

They’re wearing gloves, but he can pretend that he feels the warmth of Nikolaj’s skin against his own.

Eventually they separate, then Nikolaj pauses.

“I have to tie my shoe, wait up,” he says.

Patrik looks around the road, studying the buildings and the lights in the windows, then something hits him in the back of the shoulder. “What—” He spins around to see Nikolaj laughing at him and making another snowball.

He throws this one at Patrik’s chest, hitting him squarely in the sternum. 

It is _ on. _

They chase each other down the street, tossing snowballs that miss the target more often than not. Finally, Patrik tackles Nikolaj into a snowbank and scrubs a handful of snow into his hair while Nikolaj tries to wriggle free. They have to lie in the snow for a minute, out of breath from laughter and running.

“I’m tired, Patty,” Nikolaj complains. “Carry me back?”

“Hmm,” Patrik says, “no.” 

Nikolaj pouts at him, but Patrik just gets up and pulls Nikolaj upright. He doesn’t carry Nikolaj back, but he does wrap an arm around his shoulders and hold him close the whole way back.

“Patty?” Nikolaj breaks the silence in the elevator.

“Yeah?” 

“Are we boyfriends?”

Patrik smiles. “I hope so,” he answers.

“Okay,” Nikolaj says softly. He tucks himself closer against Patrik’s side. “Just checking.”

They shower together to warm up from the cold air. They warm up some more when Patrik slots a thigh between Nikolaj’s legs and they grind against each other until they both come, gasping against each other’s mouths. 

Nikolaj scrubs himself off with the hot pink loofah Patrik got a couple weeks earlier. He hadn’t even bothered to pretend he didn’t get it for Nikolaj.

After drying off, they tumble into bed together and curl up close before falling asleep for the rest of the afternoon. 

Patrik warms up a pre-made turkey while Nikolaj puts a salad together. Patrik even manages to find a couple candles that he’s pretty sure Pinja left behind the last time she was here. They’re mismatched and a little lumpy, but they burn just as bright as the day they were new. 

Nikolaj disappears when Patrik is almost done cleaning up. 

Once Patrik has put the last clean dish away and washed his hands, he looks for Nikolaj. Really, there’s only two places he could be and he’s not in the bathroom.

Nikolaj is sprawled out on Patrik’s bed and he grins lopsidedly when Patrik comes in. The overhead light is off, only the bedside lamp casting its dim golden light onto Nikolaj. He’s wearing the gold chains Patrik gave him, silky red panties and green stockings held up by matching garters. He’s also wearing a Santa hat.

“You look awfully festive,” Patrik says, arousal curling in his gut.

Nikolaj sits up and tosses something small to Patrik. He catches it instinctively and opens his hand.

Mistletoe.

“Oh, you,” Patrik says fondly.

Nikolaj holds his arms out. “Get over here and kiss me,” he says, and Patrik doesn’t waste any time.

They make out for a little while, Patrik running his hands over every part of Nikolaj he can reach, then Nikolaj pushes him off and keeps pushing until Patrik is sitting on the bed and Nikolaj can stand up and get his phone.

Patrik isn’t sure what he’s expecting, but it certainly isn’t Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You.” 

“Oh my god,” he says. 

Nikolaj slides into his lap, grinning his huge, goofy, beautiful grin. He’s still wearing that stupid Santa hat. “Merry Christmas, Patrik,” he says. 

Patrik hooks his fingers under the chain at Nikolaj’s throat and pulls him closer to kiss him. Nikolaj nips at his lower lip and starts up a grind. Patrik gets his other hand on Nikolaj’s ass and hitches him closer.

The song ends and Patrik moves so Nikolaj is under him again, taking the Santa hat and tossing it aside. He takes Nikolaj’s hips and turns him over, pushing a pillow under his hips. Using his teeth, he pulls Nikolaj’s panties down over his ass and eats him out until he’s sobbing.

When his jaw gets sore, he finds the lube and fingers Nikolaj open, then fucks him on his side with one hand on Nikolaj’s chain and the other in his hair. He keeps it slow, Nikolaj making punched out little sounds every time Patrik thrusts in.

Patrik keeps his fingers in Nikolaj’s hair after they finish, petting him slowly while Nikolaj lies on his chest, face tucked into the crook of Patrik’s neck. 

Patrik drifts off with the thought that this was the best Christmas he’s had in years.

* * *

Nikolaj lets it slip that his birthday is on Valentine’s Day, and Patrik would be the first to admit that he maybe gets a little excited. 

The Jets have a game, but it’s Friday night and Nikolaj is working anyway. 

After the game, Patrik drives home to change and watch a movie before he gets part of Nikolaj’s present and drives to the club. 

The other dancers know Patrik by now and the ones who see him giggle and coo at the gift bag in his hands. 

His timing works out, at least, because Nikolaj is just getting on the stage. He’s wearing his black feathers again. 

Patrik thinks he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

He watches Nikolaj’s dance like he’s in a trance, only snapped out of it when the music fades away. Patrik turns back to the bartender and orders another glass of water. 

He’s watched Nikolaj dance a lot since that first time, sometimes in the club and sometimes in private when Nikolaj wants to try something new in his routine. Every time, Patrik feels like he’s on fire.

Patrik has to wait a while for Nikolaj to come find him, but he passes the time talking to the bartenders and the other dancers who pass by. 

Nikolaj is in his street clothes when he comes to meet Patrik. He steps up close to where Patrik’s sitting on the barstool and plucks Patrik’s glass out of his hands. He holds eye contact while he drains the glass, then he sets it on the bar and leans in to kiss Patrik hello. 

“Brought you something,” Patrik says, holding up the bag.

Nikolaj hops onto the barstool beside Patrik and takes the bag. He pulls out the tissue paper, raising an eyebrow at Patrik’s wrapping job. He lifts out a heart-shaped box of chocolates and grins lopsidedly at Patrik. 

“Nice,” he says. 

“There’s more,” Patrik says. “It’s at home.” 

Nikolaj slides off his stool and looks at Patrik expectantly. “Why are we still here then?” he asks, already making his way towards the door. 

Patrik loves him _ so _ much. 

The second half of Nikolaj’s birthday present is in a small box on the coffee table in Patrik’s living room. Nikolaj raises an eyebrow while he undoes the purple ribbon, then his eyes widen a little when he opens the box.

He holds up the necklace. It’s a delicate silver thing, not too different from Patrik’s save for the small amethyst pendant. 

“It’s beautiful,” Nikolaj murmurs. He looks at Patrik. “Thank you.” 

“Amethyst is your birthstone,” Patrik says, “and I thought it was pretty.” 

“You just like putting me in sparkly things,” Nikolaj teases. “Help me put it on?”

Nikolaj is probably perfectly capable of putting a necklace on by himself, but Patrik doesn’t say anything. He takes the necklace and loops it around Nikolaj’s neck, brushing Nikolaj’s hair aside so he can secure the clasp.

“There,” he says softly. “Perfect.” 

Nikolaj turns around to face him, reaching up to toy with his new necklace. He kisses Patrik quickly on the cheek, then he pulls out his phone, flicking it on and off like he’s checking the time. Patrik raises an eyebrow.

“I wanted to make sure it isn’t Valentine’s Day anymore,” Nikolaj explains. “I didn’t want this to be too corny.”

“Don’t want what to be too—”

“I love you,” Nikolaj says. His cheeks are pink, but his voice is steady. “I know it hasn’t really been that long and I don’t expect you to be ready to say it back, but—”

Under different circumstances, Patrik might feel bad about interrupting Nikolaj. Not right now. “I love you, too,” he says, taking Nikolaj’s hands in his. He lifts Nikolaj’s hands to his mouth and brushes a kiss across his knuckles. “I have for a while. I’ve just been too nervous to tell you.” 

“Oh,” Nikolaj says, and he smiles. 

They don’t fuck that night, just curl up close under the blankets, eating Nikolaj’s birthday chocolates in between slow kisses before falling asleep. It’s still one of the best nights they’ve spent together. 

* * *

As winter starts to melt away, Nikolaj gets a little more stressed out about the end of school. He’s getting his Master’s at the end of the term and even though he’s pretty much a lock for his degree by now, he’s still nervous. 

When he’s home, Patrik gives him shoulder rubs and feels the tension under his skin. When he’s away, he calls Nikolaj almost every night to check in with him and make sure he hasn’t gotten too worked up. Nikolaj seems to appreciate it.

Work seems to help, too. After a shift at the club, he’s always looser, relaxed and quicker to smile. 

The days where nothing seems to get him out of his own head, Patrik takes two sticks and a puck, and rents out a public rink for an afternoon. He and Nikolaj can play one on one for hours, passing and shooting and checking gently, and at the end, Nikolaj skates up to him at centre ice and kisses him.

Patrik isn’t expecting Nikolaj to text him that night, knowing that he has a late shift and Nikolaj knows he has a game tomorrow, so it’s a surprise when he does. Patrik’s already in bed, about to turn out the lamp and go to sleep, but his phone lights up with a text from Nikolaj.

_ can i come over, _ it says, _ please. _

Patrik frowns. That’s weird—Nikolaj’s shift isn’t supposed to be over for another two hours. 

_ of course, _ Patrik answers. He gets out of bed and pulls on a hoodie, going to wait in the living room for Nikolaj to tell him he’s arrived. 

Half an hour later, Patrik opens the door and Nikolaj steps forward into his chest. “Whoa,” Patrik says, confused. Careful not to dislodge Nikolaj, he pushes the door shut and wraps his arms around Nikolaj. He can feel Nikolaj trembling against him and alarm rises in his throat. “Niky, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Nikolaj pushes his face into Patrik’s chest and breathes in a shuddery breath. “It was—there was this guy—he—”

Patrik takes hold of Nikolaj’s shoulders and presses him back. His heart freezes at the sight of Nikolaj’s face. 

There’s a bruise forming on Nikolaj’s cheekbone, already turning purple. There’s a bandage in the centre, like it’s covering a cut. The side of his face is a little swollen, the greenish-yellow edge of the bruise fading away under his eye.

Patrik looks at the bruise, then at Nikolaj’s expression, and he doesn’t ask. He leads Nikolaj to the couch and makes him sit down, then he goes to find one of his ice packs and wraps it in a towel. When he gets back, he picks up the throw blanket and tucks it around Nikolaj’s shoulders before putting the ice pack in Nikolaj’s hand. He helps him lift it to his cheek. 

Once Nikolaj is holding the ice pack himself, Patrik hugs him close and rubs his back gently. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks quietly. 

Nikolaj sniffles. “You can probably guess,” he says bitterly. 

Patrik squeezes the back of his neck in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. “I don’t want to make assumptions,” he says. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

Nikolaj rests his head on Patrik’s shoulder with a sigh. “He didn’t listen to the rule,” he says, so soft Patrik barely hears him, but once the words register, his chest burns with fury. “He wouldn’t stop when I told him, so I hit him. He—he punched me. He was wearing a ring and it—” Nikolaj’s voice cracks and he turns his face into Patrik’s hoodie to muffle his crying. 

Patrik holds him close, stroking his hair and murmuring comforting words that he only knows in Finnish until Nikolaj falls asleep right there on the couch.

Careful not to wake him, Patrik gathers Nikolaj into his arms and carries him to bed.

With Nikolaj sleeping uneasily beside him, Patrik stares up at the ceiling through the dark and imagines dismembering a man he’s never seen. 

* * *

Nikolaj is given a couple weeks off from work and stays mostly at Patrik’s during that time.   
  
His bruise heals until his skin is clear and smooth again, but Patrik can’t forget the way he’d looked that night, small and shaken and terrified.

Nikolaj promises he’s okay, teases Patrik that maybe he should add brass knuckles to his costume if it’d make him feel better, and he does seem alright. He goes back to work and it’s _ fine. _

The thing is, though, Patrik sleeps in the same bed as him almost every night. He knows when Nikolaj wakes up in the middle of the night, stiff as a board and covered in a cold sweat, because that wakes him up, too.

One of those nights, Patrik reaches out and gently sets his hand on Nikolaj’s waist. He leaves his hand there until Nikolaj’s shivering stops and he rolls over to tuck himself against Patrik’s chest.

“Niky,” Patrik breathes, “Niky, Niky. You can tell me if you’re not okay.” 

“I know,” Nikolaj says quietly. “I do feel okay during the day, is the thing. It’s when I’m sleeping—when I’m dreaming. It’s like I forget that I’m safe when I’m asleep.” 

Patrik hugs Nikolaj close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “If you need to talk to someone,” he starts.

“I can talk to you?” 

“I was going to say I could help you look for a therapist,” Patrik says dryly.

Nikolaj snorts. “We’ll see.” He snuggles closer with a sigh. “Thank you,” he murmurs. 

“I love you, Nikolaj,” Patrik says, rubbing up and down Nikolaj’s spine. “I want you to feel safe, always.” 

“Oh,” Nikolaj says, voice wobbly. He clears his throat. “Soft.” 

Patrik bumps his nose against Nikolaj’s forehead and smiles. “Only for you, baby,” he says.

Nikolaj pinches his waist before they fall asleep again.

This time, they sleep peacefully all the way until morning.

* * *

The Jets make the playoffs. 

It had never been a sure thing, not with a season full of ups and downs like this one, but they do it.

Patrik slips away from the team celebration to go home and see Nikolaj. Nikolaj is halfway to the him before Patrik even takes his shoes off, and he jumps into Patrik’s arms with a joyful laugh. It makes Patrik wonder, just for an instant, what it’d be like if Nikolaj was on the team. He pushes the thought away. Even if Nikolaj hadn’t been hurt, what would the odds of him being drafted to the Jets even be? It’s a silly idea.

“Great fucking game,” Nikolaj says, then he kisses Patrik almost violently. 

Their teeth click together and Patrik mumbles, “ow,” into Nikolaj’s mouth before kissing back just as fiercely.

Nikolaj grips Patrik’s shirt and drags him through the apartment. He shoves Patrik onto the mattress and steps away, pulling off his shirt and stepping out of his sweatpants before straddling Patrik’s hips and bending down to kiss him.

Patrik stays in his suit the whole time while Nikolaj fingers himself open in his lap. Nikolaj unzips Patrik’s pants enough to get his dick out before riding him into the mattress, his hands slippery with sweat and lube and grasping uselessly for purchase on Patrik’s shirt. 

When Nikolaj slides off of him after and both of them trying to get Patrik’s buttons undone with slightly trembly fingers, Patrik thinks maybe this is another _ thing _ for them. 

They’ve got a lot of those now. Maybe he should feel a little more embarrassed about that than he does, but they’re having fun, so. It’s _ good. _ He doesn’t care if they’re kind of stupid, too.

Nikolaj lies beside him, fingertips tracing lightly over Patrik’s skin before they fall asleep. They stay quiet for a while, their breathing the only sound.

“Bring it home,” Nikolaj says finally.

Patrik looks at him. Nikolaj’s eyes are fierce but steady on his and he digs his fingers into Patrik’s chest. 

“You got it,” Patrik says. 

Nikolaj smiles and closes his eyes. Patrik frowns at the ceiling. It’s not that easy and they both know it, but Patrik is sure as hell going to try like he tries every year.

For the team, for his family. For Nikolaj.

They win the first round at home, in front of a screaming crowd of white. Nikolaj is there, too, wearing one of Patrik’s away jerseys. 

The nights Patrik is home, he’s too exhausted to do much more than sleep. Nikolaj doesn’t mind. He knows from experience how draining playoffs can be, even if he never made it past the Q. His presence helps Patrik a lot during that first series. 

Nikolaj starts acting a little shifty after the first game of the second round. Patrik isn’t sure if it’s because he had his last therapy session and is, like, regressing, but he’s worried. So Patrik corners him at breakfast and demands to know what’s going on.

“It’s nothing,” Nikolaj says. “I don’t want to distract you. I mean, playoffs are more important than—than this.”

Patrik stares at him with narrowed eyes until he cracks.

Nikolaj’s shoulders slump. “Fine,” he says. “My graduation ceremony is on Friday.” 

Patrik goggles at him. “And you didn’t tell me?” 

“You have a game!” Nikolaj protests. “I didn’t want you to have to make that choice, it’s not fair. I know how important playoffs are.”

Just because Patrik knows why he didn’t say anything doesn’t mean he has to _ like _ it. 

“So you were just going to let me play a hockey game while you go through one of the most important moments of your life,” Patrik says flatly. “Alone.”

“My family is coming,” Nikolaj says, but it’s a feeble objection and he knows it.

Patrik shakes his head. Hockey is important to him, has _ always _ been the most important thing in his life, but he has more than hockey now. “I won’t play Friday,” he says.

“You _ what?” _ Maurice half-shouts. He stares at Patrik for a moment before rubbing his eyes like he thinks he’s hallucinating.

“I can’t play Friday,” Patrik repeats. “Sorry.” 

“‘Sorry’?” Maurice says.

Patrik pushes down the impulse to make a joke about echoes. Not the time. 

Maurice rubs his forehead. “You’d better have a really good reason for this,” he warns.

Patrik had thought about lying, but now that he’s standing here in front of Maurice he thinks he’s tired of secrets. “My boyfriend is getting his Master’s degree,” Patrik says bluntly. He ignores the astonished look on Maurice’s face and presses on. “I have to be there for him. I’ll explain to the team.” 

“Er.” Maurice stares at Patrik, then at the floor, then back at Patrik. “I—That’s a damn good reason,” he says finally. 

“Thank you,” Patrik says. He hopes Maurice can tell just how much this means to him. 

Maurice nods stiffly and Patrik goes to talk to the team. 

Everyone is still in the locker room getting ready for practice. It’s just the team, so Patrik stands as close to the centre of the room as he can and clears his throat to get everyone’s attention.

He doesn’t bother beating around the bush with it. “I’m not playing Friday,” he announces. Before everyone can object, he keeps going. “I have to go to my boyfriend’s graduation. I wish I didn’t have to choose, but.” He shrugs. “Sorry.”

The room is silent for a moment. Patrik shifts awkwardly in his skates.

“That’s alright, Patty,” Blake says, and most of the team follows his example.

Kyle knocks their knees together when Patrik sits in his stall. “That why you’ve been acting so sketchy the last few months?” he asks. 

Patrik doesn’t think he’s been acting overly sketchy, but he nods anyway. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he says, because Kyle is one of his best friends and probably deserved to know before the rest of the team. 

“It’s okay,” Kyle says with an easy shrug. He looks at Patrik closely. “This guy—you love him, don’t you.” 

Patrik ducks his head down, ostensibly to tie his skates. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Yeah, I do.”

Kyle is quiet for a moment, then he claps Patrik on the shoulder. “Good,” he says firmly. “You keep him.” 

“He’s his own person, KC,” Patrik reminds him, but he thinks about it for the rest of the day. About—about _ having _ Nikolaj, about waking up to see his dumb sleeping face every day for the rest of his life. His heart flutters with how much he _ wants. _

On Friday, Patrik puts on his suit but he doesn’t drive to Bell MTS. Instead, he goes to the university. He sits in the back of the hall, hidden in the shadows.

For most of the ceremony, he claps politely at the same time as everyone else. 

Then Nikolaj comes out to get his diploma, all decked out in his dark robes and wearing one of those square hats. Patrik whistles and claps harder, grinning at the way Nikolaj smiles bashfully. 

Every other time Patrik’s seen him on a stage, he’s been so confident and self-assured. He still looks confident as he accepts his diploma and shakes some hands, but there’s something startled in his eyes like he still can’t quite believe this is real.

Patrik feels antsy for the rest of the ceremony. He wants to find Nikolaj to congratulate him and kiss him, damn the dozens of other people here. 

As the dean’s final speech starts to wind down, Patrik gets up and quietly slips out of the hall to wait. 

Nikolaj finds him fast—literally. Patrik hears running footsteps and turns around, then Nikolaj is jumping into his arms. 

“I really did it,” he gasps, his eyes bright and shiny but so happy. He blinks quickly and buries his face in Patrik’s chest.

Patrik hugs him tight. “I’m so proud of you, Niky,” he says. His throat feels a little tight. 

Nikolaj steps back suddenly. Patrik’s eyes catch on the glint of silver not quite covered by his robes and feels himself flush.

“My family,” Nikolaj says. “They’re here, I mean. If you want.” He bites his lip and looks up at Patrik questioningly.

Patrik knows Nikolaj wouldn’t be mad if he left without meeting them, because Nikolaj knows how the hockey world is. Patrik squeezes his waist gently.

“Niky,” he says gently, “I’d love to meet them.” 

Nikolaj beams at him.

“Niko!” A woman’s voice cuts through the little bubble they’ve made for themselves and they separate. 

Nikolaj turns to greet his family and Patrik takes the opportunity to study them, trying to match names and photos to the real people. Each one of them is as blond and blue-eyed as Nikolaj. 

The brother—Sebastian, Patrik remembers—notices him first. “Patrik Laine?” He stares at Patrik, then frowns at Nikolaj. “Niko, why didn’t you tell us you were friends with Patrik Laine?” 

Nikolaj extracts himself from his mother’s arms and steps closer to Patrik. “Guys,” he says, “this is my boyfriend. Patrik.”

Nikolaj’s father says something in Danish, but the way Nikolaj blushes and retorts makes Patrik pretty sure it isn’t bad. His mother coos, Sebastian ruffles his hair and Caroline pinches his cheeks until Nikolaj smacks her hands away.

“Stop it,” he grumbles. “Go bother Patrik, not me.” 

Patrik doesn’t mind being the new centre of attention. He shakes hands and talks about how great Nikolaj is, which isn’t hard. 

“He’s not a very good cook, though,” Patrik says thoughtfully. Nikolaj kicks him in the ankle while his family laughs.

Nikolaj’s mother invites him to come to dinner with them.

“He’ll only insist on paying,” Nikolaj warns, and it’s not like he’s wrong.

“Go get changed,” Caroline tells him bossily. Little sisters, Patrik thinks fondly.

Nikolaj shuffles off, leaving Patrik alone with his family. 

Sebastian sidles up beside him. “You know,” he says carefully, “last time we were here, he wasn’t like this so much.” 

“Like what?” 

“Happy.” 

Patrik thinks about that for the rest of the evening. After a long supper—that Patrik pays for—he drives home with Nikolaj while his family takes their rental car back to their hotel. 

He parks and unbuckles his seatbelt, but leans over to kiss Nikolaj before they get out. “I love you,” Patrik says. He kisses Nikolaj again. “So much.” 

“Love you, too,” Nikolaj says, but he looks a little confused. “What was all that for?” he asks in the elevator.

Patrik gathers him into his arms and presses their foreheads together. “I’m just really proud of you,” he says. 

Nikolaj tilts his head just enough to kiss him. “Soft,” he says, and then the elevator _ dings _ and they separate. 

While Nikolaj showers, Patrik catches the end of the game. The Jets win and tie the series at two. 

He checks his phone before bed. Headlines reading _ Where is Patrik Laine? _ and _ Laine Not In Line-Up, Maurice Claiming He Will Return For Game Five. _

Patrik sighs and turns out the light. There’s no point in worrying about it.

There isn’t, at least, until they lose two in a row. 

They’re out.

“So, Patrik,” one of the Sportsnet guys starts, and Patrik knows exactly what he’s about to say, “can you tell us why you were absent from the line-up in Game Four?”

There are probably better ways to do this. Press conferences, maybe. Carefully scripted interviews, probably. Patrik doesn’t think about those right now. He’s tired, he’s pissed, and they’ve just lost in the second round of the playoffs. All he wants to do is go home and sleep with Nikolaj in his arms.

“Yeah,” Patrik says. He avoids looking at the cameras. “I had to go to my boyfriend’s graduation.” 

There’s a long moment of silence. 

Kyle looks up from where he’s untying his skates and stares open-mouthed. 

“No more questions,” Patrik says. “Thanks.” 

He turns away and takes off his jersey. At least that’s over with. 

Nikolaj greets him at the door. He doesn’t say anything, just wraps his arms around Patrik and holds him for a long time. 

They undress for bed and tonight, Nikolaj curls up against Patrik’s back and laces their fingers together over Patrik’s belly.

“That was pretty stupid,” Nikolaj whispers before they fall asleep.

Patrik sighs. “I know,” he admits. “I’m just tired of all the secrets.” 

Nikolaj presses his nose against Patrik’s spine. “I get it,” he says. “I’m here if you need me.” 

_ I always need you, _Patrik doesn’t say. Instead, he tightens his hand on Nikolaj’s and squeezes his eyes shut. 

* * *

Summer is too long, but it’s a welcome break from all the—well. From everything, really. 

Nikolaj gets a few weeks off and Patrik takes him somewhere hot and tropical where nobody knows Patrik’s name. They spend their days on the beach and their nights in bed learning new ways to take each other apart. 

Patrik presses his palm lightly against Nikolaj’s throat while he fucks him, once, and Nikolaj’s eyes roll back in his head and he comes with a broken sound.

After they spend almost three weeks in the tropics, they go to Finland and Nikolaj meets his family. 

His family is a little distressed that Patrik told the media he had a boyfriend before them, but they’re not as upset as they could be. Like, at least they knew he was gay already. So, like, it could’ve been worse.

Pinja makes fun of him a lot, sometimes reading stupid headlines over breakfast until Patrik has to steal her phone out of her hands and hold it over his head where she can’t reach. 

Patrik shows Nikolaj around Tampere, taking him to his favourite restaurants and shops.

They sit on a park bench and have ice cream cones one afternoon, watching the birds.

“Next summer, we should go to Denmark,” Nikolaj says. He has ice cream on the corner of his mouth. His cheeks darken when he realizes what he’s said. “I mean—”

“That’s a good idea,” Patrik says. He leans over and wipes the ice cream off Nikolaj’s lips with his thumb. “You can show me all your favourite places.” 

Nikolaj smiles so wide his cheeks must hurt. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I will.” 

June comes to an end and Nikolaj goes back to Winnipeg to look for a higher paying job now that he has his Master’s. Patrik stays in Finland to train until the end of August.

_ got a new job! _ Nikolaj texts him a couple weeks before he’s due back in Canada. _ pays well, _ he adds. _ see you soon. _

He doesn’t tell Patrik what, exactly, the job is, just that it’s full time and pays well enough that he quit his job at the club. Patrik is a little disappointed about that and he’ll miss watching Nikolaj dance, but it was never going to be his forever career. Plus, Nikolaj hadn’t seemed to enjoy it as much after that guy hit him.

Patrik just asks him, teasing, if he’ll still dance for him. Nikolaj laughs over the phone, the sound making the thousands of miles between them melt away until Patrik feels like he could reach across the bed and touch him. 

_ Only two more weeks, _Patrik reminds himself and they talk on the phone until Patrik falls asleep, his phone still in his hand.

Nikolaj picks him up from the airport. Everyone in the city who cares about hockey even a little bit probably knows what Patrik said after the Jets lost back in the spring, so Patrik ignores the crowd in the airport and sweeps Nikolaj into his arms. Nikolaj’s hair smells like Patrik’s shampoo—he’s been staying at Patrik’s place most of the summer.

“Hey,” Nikolaj wheezes, giggling a little. “Miss me?” 

“Just a bit,” Patrik says and sets Nikolaj down so he can kiss him. He keeps it soft but lingering, making sure Nikolaj knows exactly how much he’s missed him.

“Really?” Nikolaj murmurs when they part. 

Patrik strokes his thumbs over Nikolaj’s cheekbones. “I missed you,” he says. “Good enough?” 

Nikolaj pokes him in the belly. “Yeah, I love you, too, stupid,” he says. 

Patrik pushes him away before Nikolaj can try to grab his suitcase or something, but he holds Nikolaj’s hand the whole way to the car. 

Nikolaj drives home while Patrik dozes against the window. He’s exhausted from travelling.

He’s not quick enough when the car stops and Nikolaj snatches his luggage out of the trunk. 

“I’ll carry it,” Patrik says unconvincingly. He can tell Nikolaj is rolling his eyes from the back of his head alone.

The apartment is mostly the same as it was when Patrik left, but there are a few subtle differences.

There’s another blanket on the back of the couch in front of the TV. Patrik recognizes it as the one Nikolaj used to keep at the foot of his bed. There are some more video game cases on the coffee table that Patrik doesn’t remember buying, a mug on the counter that isn’t one of Patrik’s, a plant on the breakfast bar that Patrik has never seen.

There’s also a navy blue Jets jacket over the back of one of the chairs that is definitely too small to be Patrik’s. He picks it up while Nikolaj carries his suitcase to the bedroom. There’s a word stitched onto the upper part of one of the sleeves. Patrik blinks his sleepiness away. 

_ Ehlers, _it says.

“Um,” he says, “Niky?” 

“Oh,” Nikolaj says. He grins and takes the jacket from Patrik, shrugging it on easily. “Nikolaj Ehlers, assistant athletic trainer for the Manitoba Moose.” He salutes. “At your service.” 

“Oh my god,” Patrik says, because what _ else _ is there to say? “Niky—oh my god.” 

Nikolaj holds his arms out to his sides, showing off a little. “I think it looks good,” he says. “Don’t you?” He raises an eyebrow.

It turns out Patrik isn’t too tired to fuck him. 

After, Nikolaj stretches out his limbs until his muscles tremble, then flops limply against the mattress, closing his eyes with a satisfied expression. “What do you think,” he murmurs. “Moose this year, Jets next year?” 

Patrik rolls over to kiss him, stroking a thumb over Nikolaj’s nipple and listening to his breathing stutter. “Why not,” he says. He likes the sound of that—Nikolaj travelling with the team, being at every game, spending the nights with Patrik. Patrik nips at his jaw. “Move in with me.”

Nikolaj’s blue eyes flicker open to study Patrik’s face. “You’re serious? Really?” 

“Why not?” Patrik says. It’s not like Nikolaj doesn’t spend most of his time here, anyway. Patrik just wants it to be official. 

Nikolaj laughs, an almost startled sound. “I—yeah, okay,” he says. “Why not?” 

Patrik grins at him like an idiot before climbing on top of him to kiss him. Nikolaj clutches at his shoulders and whines into his mouth. Yeah, they’re going to be good.

The last coherent thought Patrik has for the rest of the night is that this is going to be a _ great _ year.

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: offscreen, a man tries to touch nikolaj when he tells him to stop so nikolaj hits him, then the man punches him. this shakes nikolaj up and is referenced a bit in the following scenes. 
> 
> please i know i went overboard... i couldn't help myself.
> 
> nikolaj's jewelry, both links SFW: [loopy chains](https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/725149977483165709/) and [amethyst necklace](https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/544443042452568672/)
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/symphony7inAmaj) for more loops meltdowns!


End file.
